chronicles of a crossover
by CrimsonedClouds
Summary: A series of one-shots featuring a variety of fandoms and Katekyo Hitman Reborn (but basically just Harry Potter and Naruto).
1. one: sasuke uchiha

**Rated: T (cursing and mentions of death, gore, and pedophilia (in passing, but not really because reincarnation))**

**Categories: Friendship, Drama, Romance, Minor Angst**

**Fandoms: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!, Naruto**

**Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Hana Kurokawa, Fon, Kyoko Sasagawa, Hibari Kyoya, Tsunayoshi Sawada**

**Pairings: F87, some LI if you squint**

**Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! and Naruto don't belong to me.**

* * *

**one: sasuke uchiha**

She didn't particularly remember dying. Her last days were hazy at best, something which never failed to annoy her. What kind of self-respecting shinobi— and she was hailed as a hero, a god amongst shinobi, alongside Naruto, the idiot who went and got himself killed before he even reached forty, with the latter being more prominent— let down their guard, even in a moment of weakness? Pathetic.

(She wondered what her brother would say if he could see her now. Was he proud? Did he still love her even after all his misdeeds?)

It's as if her mind blanks every time she tries to think back on her death— it's right there, on the tip of her tongue, when she wants to tell someone, anyone—

In this new life, she cannot remember being born, either. The caretakers in the orphanage are tired and weary and eye her— him— strangely. No, she's not having an identity crisis. She didn't care for such silly things like gender roles, so whether or not she was male in her previous life was of no concern to her.

The fact that she couldn't even form complete sentences until she was three was, however, something that would weigh heavily on her mind for the rest of her life. It was silly, really, but during that time she thought— she kept thinking, 'Itachi was already able to wield a kunai at this age. What the hell are you doing? Can't even walk yet, either—'

And the crushing guilt of his death would come back full force and the caretakers would spend hours trying to calm her down (to no avail).

Her childhood is a blur of colors and noises beyond that, soft hands and caring eyes and cruel whispers. The orphanage children didn't like her very much, she had realized after being brutally shoved down the stairs one morning. Only Sasagawa-san and Kawashi-san were ever nice to her, probably because they were the only two caretakers with children of their own. Why they even worked at the orphanage in the first place was beyond her, though.

Sasagawa-san was a pretty, pretty middle-aged lady with pretty, pretty green eyes and pretty, pretty orange hair. She was kind but in a distant way. She cared more for her own spawn then for her, the child-not-child had decided, unsurprised. Humans were selfish, selfish creatures, after all.

Compared to Naruto— compared to _Itachi_—these people were mere monkeys. Weak-willed and simple-minded.

(Actually, monkeys are rather smart, but you get the point.)

Kawashi-san was… there. She was there when the child was hurt, or when she was sick: the woman refused to see any child under her care suffer, particularly her. She was beautiful, with long, silky, and pin-straight blue-black hair that shone under the light— her eyes were a deep, honeyed brown, and her skin was starkly white against the dark dresses she typically wore.

Her cheekbones were high and her features aristocratic. She moved like an assassin, feet gliding against the floor and footsteps near silent; movements carefully calculated and eyes shining with a sharp intelligence.

'Mother,' whispered the nagging, whining voice in the back of her mind that sounded suspiciously like Tobi, 'she looks just like your mother. You stupid, selfish boy—'

"Are you alright, baby?" Kawashi-san would murmur, cool, gentle fingers cupping the child's face as she whimpered in pain, clutching her head. "Does your head hurt, child?"

Usually it would annoy her to be babied and referred to as a child, but Kawashi-san said it with such love, such care, that she could not fault her for it.

She _loved_ Kawashi-san.

It was only right that the woman was killed in a car crash six days later on the way back from dropping her off at school.

* * *

"Kurokawa-chan!" The teacher would chide as she ignored the pathetic monkeys surrounding her. "Come on, don't be shy! Play with everyone else!"

Stupid, stupid, monkeys. She continued to ignore them.

The teacher eventually gave up, realizing that his pleas were futile, before moving on to sooth a wailing monkey in the corner.

They were annoying, not unlike the pathetic, useless fangirls back in the Academy. Like that Haruno girl that he'd never quite gotten around to liking. She was useful enough for restoring his clan, and he didn't particularly care for his daughter, either, who was too much like that woman for his liking, but Naruto—

A monkey poked him in the side. "Hey, hey, Kuwakawa-chwan! You want pway wit ush?" The creature screeched.

"Hn."

"Bu, bu, Kuwakawa-cwhan!" Another monkey sniffled.

"Tch. It's _Kurokawa_. Get it right, monkey."

The monkey and it's followers promptly burst into tears, and the pathetic teacher rushed towards them.

"What's going on here, girls?" The man frowned, crossing his arms in what was probably supposed to be an intimidating manner.

It seemed to work on the monkeys, however, as they began blubbering nonsense, which seemed to make sense to the teacher. Probably because they were all monkeys with the mental capacity of vegetables. Detachedly, she watched as the teacher turned accusing eyes on her.

"That wasn't very nice, Kurokawa-chan. You hurt Sasaki-chan's, Sasagawa-chan's, and Kobayashi-chan's feelings. Let's all make up now, okay?" The creature explained patiently.

She was no longer listening, but apologized to the monkeys anyways. She was more focused on the smallest girl in the group, the one who had approached her first. With short, fluffy orange-tinged brown hair, wide, bright golden eyes, pale skin, and a tear-stricken face, she had little to no resemblance to her mother.

Still, something about Sasagawa Kyoko bothered her. Perhaps it was her striking resemblance to the girl she'd once had a crush on back in the Academy, who had quickly faded into the background after her clan's massacre. Perhaps it was the genuine kindness behind the grin she flashed her when she had apologized and realized that the girl who'd just made her cry wasn't really that mean, after all (or so she thought). Or perhaps it was none of that and the annoyingly kind, orange-haired monkey's appearance and personality had nothing to do with it.

Perhaps it was the odd sensation of _wrongness_ she got whenever she saw her. Like how a cat would feel if its fur was brushed the wrong way and it was not quite sure why.

Whatever. She didn't care. She sensed no ill intentions from the monkey, and was quite sure she wasn't in a similar situation to her own, so it didn't matter. She'd find out one day, anyway.

...which is what she would say if she was a lesser woman.

She would find out what the hell was up with Sasagawa Kyoko one way or another.

* * *

Flames.

That was what was wrong with the girl— she had some latent form of… fake-chakra.

Everyone did, but the monkey's were the only indigo ones she'd seen(?) so far so she chalked it up to that color specifically. Perhaps a genjutsu-type. She'd never felt comfortable around anyone in her past life (and this one, really), but genjutsu users like that red-eyed Uchiha rip-off, especially set on her age.

You want to know how she found out about flames? Well, she was going to get there eventually.

It happened like this: she was on a god-forsaken field trip with her shitty monkey classmates five days after turning seven. She'd been on the way back from school (nobody at the orphanage had time to walk her to school or even pick her up. Nobody wanted to, anyway.) and crossing the street (the light was green, greengreengreen, she should have made it across _fine_—) when she was hit by a car. The driver was not intoxicated, she later learned, but had not seen her at all in the pouring rain. Thankfully, the stupid monkey was useful enought to call the ambulance only a few moments after the impact. Trained or not, she was in a child's body, and a child's body was a delicate, delicate thing.

She'd woken up in the hospital a week later, was released a month after that, and was shut in the darkness of the cupboard she'd claimed for herself in the orphanage mere moments after arriving there.

She stared at her hand for hours, ignoring the orphanage ladies' half-hearted calls for her to join them for dinner. She stared and willed the light to come forth because she'd _seen it_.

The driver who hit her and any witnesses had passed it off as a reflection of the light from the car that had struck her, but she knew better.

A moment before the car had struck, purple light had exploded around her (purple, Shisui's favorite color, the stitches of Naruto's forehead protector after he'd asked her to fix it, the color of the first shirt she'd fixed with his mother when learning how to sew—) and the world around her had _burned_.

She wanted to see it again— she _needed_ to see it again. The light was safety— it was warmth, comfort, hope in the midst of the darkness that was her fragile psyche.

After hours of staring at her hand and willing the light to come forth, she finally resorted to meditation.

By the time she was done, it was already time to leave for school, but she _had it_. The purple light (fire, not late, it was flames licking at her fingertips, the same color as _Susanoo_—) shone brightly in the darkness of the cupboard she was curled up in, and she held it up to her face in awe.

'Hn,' she mused, 'Interesting, very interesting. I'll need to look into these flames of mine.'

And so everything more or less went back to normal for a month or so, with her discreetly scrutinizing Sasagawa during class and practicing summoning and utilizing her flames at home (she'd created a copy of her favorite book by accident when she'd activated her flames while reading. It was wicked.) until she made the stupid mistake of falling asleep in the park where she was resting under the shade of a tree. She'd woken up at around nine p.m., when it was already pitch-black and almost everyone trustworthy was already heading to bed or washing up.

She'd quickly made her way back to the orphanage, but hadn't quite reached her destination when her 'shinobi sixth sense' went haywire and everything went black.

* * *

"Such nice Cloud flames you have, girly," the monkeys would purr. "Our boss' son is a Sky, you see, and he's been looking for a Cloud for a while now… And, well, Clouds around his age are rather hard to come by, but looky here! A little Cloud around his age, all on her own… My, you'd sell well on the black market. You have a pretty face— even better! It's a shame..."

She felt sick. No matter how many men and women she'd killed in her past life, she always hesitated before killing a child. And even now, the mere thought of Orochimaru made her sick to her stomach. If these monkeys had gotten their hands on any other child but her…

Well, they were useful, at least. She'd asked what these Flames they talked about were, and one of the female monkeys was more than willing to talk. It was interesting, to say the least.

She was primarily a Cloud but also contained Lightning and Storm flames, the latter being the more prominent of the two secondaries. The monkeys had taken her because of this odd combination, because apparently they were also Orochimaru rip-offs. Idiots.

She'd been captive for two days before the… law enforcement came. She used that term loosely because there was a fucking baby with a weird-as-hell, glowing red pacifier hanging from his neck fighting alongside the adult monkeys and incapacitating her monkey captors.

Really, this was the kind of shit from those pointless comic book-based movies Naruto had forced her into watching whenever she stepped foot inside the village. How that idiot could be so powerful and yet so _stupid_ was beyond her.

Oh, she probably should've mentioned that there really was another kid with her: a boy who was a couple years above her in school. They'd brought him in as a backup in case their boss' son didn't like her, which was likely. He wasn't a total monkey, so brownie points to him but he must've been pretty stupid to get caught in broad daylight (which she'd found out after he'd forced her to explain her presence). Anyways, the brat was freed first, obviously, since the commanding officer looked _suspiciously_ like him. The baby, too, even if he was, well, a baby.

They'd just freed the kid when suddenly her senses went haywire and there was a gun pressed to her temple.

It was suddenly so silent that you could hear a pin drop.

"Hand over my men or the bitch dies," the newly-identified Mist monkey snarled, indigo flames flaring in his free hand.

Huh. She peered into the darkness behind the baby-not-baby, the boy and his monkey sperm donor, and a few of the law enforcement monkeys to see a group of two or three monkeys tied up with more monkeys surrounding them. Captive monkeys, then.

Before the law enforcement monkeys could do anything, she spoke up. "Hn. Feeling creative, monkey? I'm not in a very good mood right now, you pathetic monkey. Unhand me and you might just live," she drawled, tilting her head upwards to meet the monkey's shocked gaze.

Its eyes narrowed in fury and its mouth twisted into an ugly snarl (not that it wasn't already hideous). "You little bitch! I'll kill you!" It shrieked.

"Hn. Weren't you already planning to do that, genius? See, this is the problem with monkeys! You're all self-centered little shits with egos the size of Eurasia. Not to mention a mental capacity comparable to that of a vegetable—" she began, voice perfectly flat and face completely blank.

"Go to hell!" The monkey sputtered, its hand tightening around the gun and its index finger about to pull the trigger—

The baby and its monkey companions were visibly distressed, and the boy was watching the whole thing with wide eyes. Luckily (or unluckily depending upon who you asked) he wouldn't be traumatized by her death today. Before the stupid monkey could pull the trigger, she used her Cloud flames to strengthen her legs and _jumped_.

Her foot made contact with its face, her elbow with its groin, and her hand with the barrel of its gun as she flipped over. It was disarmed now, and cowering on the ground, while she was holding the gun and aiming it at the center of its forehead. The monkey's eyes were wide with fear, and it was foaming at the mouth. She smirked for what felt like the first time in forever, and met its horrified gaze with her own darkly amused one.

"Hn. Bye-bye, monkey."

She pulled the trigger, and the creature knew no more.

* * *

The monkeys were evidently disturbed and horrified by the blatant ease with which she killed the monkey. The boy was awestruck, which she found rather amusing, and he stuck to her like glue from that day on, which was not quite as amusing. The baby was nice, though, and she liked him. No idea why, though it might've had something to do with his acceptance of her quirkiness. His nonchalance probably had something to do with the fact that his great grandnephew (what the fuck?) was just as freaky as her.

The boy was placed in her Good Acquaintance category after a few years of knowing him. He grew on her like fungi, unlike Hatake or Haruno. It was much the same with Naruto at first.

They weren't exactly close like her and Naruto were, but they were friendly enough to eat lunch together and train together with the occasional guidance of Fon-baby. Apparently the baby wasn't always a baby, since they'd pressured him into telling them about the Arcobaleno after she explained that she already knew about Flames and the mafia (which the captor monkeys had kindly explained out of the good of their own hearts).

All in all? Life was pretty good.

And then another not-baby came to town and the annoying Italian monkey followed closely behind and the pathetic brown monkey saved the baseball monkey and a pink monkey came and a cow monkey came and an assassin monkey came and a group of _powerful_ monkeys came and—

One day, she woke up in her bed in the orphanage on an inconspicuous Tuesday morning in a cold sweat. It felt as if she'd just woken up from dying, or something. She had a vague recollection of a marshmallow monkey who was trying to take over the world, a pacifier monkey who wore ridiculously skimpy clothes hugging her and crying, a frankly unsettling fondness for Fon-baby, uncontrollable grief as someone important (who?) passed, confusion as people she thought were gone came back younger and confused, some monkeys she was fond of in distress and then _painpainpain_— nothing.

(_"You… you better fucking… live, or… I'll… I'll fucking..."_

"_No_— _oh god, no, wait, don't go, please, no_—")

'Huh,' she thought as she pulled on her uniform, 'what a weird dream.'

* * *

The moment she walked into her classroom, she noticed the lack of brown monkey and co. While not an uncommon occurrence, something definitely felt wrong because there were no explosions going off on the way to school, or ostriches being set free from somewhere, or…

Yeah. Something was up.

Dammit, even Good Acquaintance was absent (she didn't really know what to call him. 'Boy' was weird, but his name was even weirder. She just settled on his status mentally.).

The school day passed by agonizingly slow because she had the strangest feeling that someone was watching her, but whenever she discreetly observed her surroundings for any potential stalkers, she found nothing. It was unnerving, and frankly creepy.

She was looking forward to going home until, sadly, she was tasked with delivering that day's classwork and homework to the brown monkey and co. The class had just set up a system for who had to deliver worksheets because of how many times the monkey and his group were late or injured or… yeah. Kind of like Naruto in the Academy. Usually they were all in the same place or near each other, so it only took one or two stops to deliver the work, but the person could opt out if they had proof that they were busy or physically incapable of delivering the papers.

It was much too complicated a system, but the monkey teacher had looked resigned to it all when he'd announced it to the class (when the brown monkey and co. were late, again).

It took ten minutes to get to the brown monkey's residence, the address having been written on a slip of paper that the monkey teacher had handed her.

She dreaded to face what was on the other side of that door, but the sooner she was done with this the sooner she could pass out on her bed after training. Resignedly, she knocked thrice on the wooden door (the gate had, strangely enough, been unlocked. She could've just jumped it if it hadn't been.) and waited, feeling more and more ill at ease the longer the silence lasted.

Suddenly, there were scampering footsteps and muffled voices. A lot more than the last time she'd been on paper-delivering duty, she noticed.

The door opened abruptly and the assassin monkey stared up at her, freezing with shock when she recognized her. Somehow.

Tears filled his eyes.

Oh, god. Shit. What the hell. Why was this kid crying!? What the hell had she done!? She'd put on her 'neutral upset' expression, this shouldn't be happening—

"B-Big sister…" The monkey whispered.

"Huh? You've got the wrong person, monkey. Who the hell are y—"

The monkey abruptly lunged at her and wrapped her arms around her, sobbing into her chest. It took every ounce of her self-control to not kill her then and there— after years of being trained as a shinobi, hugging wasn't really a thing she did. It was dangerous. You could be stabbed. Your spine could be snapped. You could be suffocated to death. Really, there were a lot of ways someone could kill you with a hug—

Ah, shit. The monkey was still getting snot and tears all over her _freshly washed_ uniform. Ugh.

(Honestly, she was becoming less and less like her previous self as the days passed. Was it this body? Or was it the life of a shinobi that suppressed this side of her? This… carefree, sarcastic, guilt-trippable little girl? It unnerved her. It was terrifying. She was scared of losing her last connection to her previous life— to her brother— to _Naruto_—)

Sighing wearily, she wrapped her arms around the monkey and lifted her slightly so her feet were off the ground, mindful of the papers in her hands, and stepped inside of the house. She carefully discarded her shoes without the use of her hands and shut and locked the door behind her with her foot (an accomplishment she was quite proud of).

Still, the monkey continued to sob and wipe snot on her chest and oh, shit, this brat was like five and shouldn't be capable of creating heart-wrenching sobs like she was. She carefully let go of the monkey so that her feet were touching the floor once more. She'd stopped sobbing, thankfully, and was now staring up at her with wide, teary eyes and sniffling loudly.

"Are you— is it really you, big sister?" She choked out.

"Hn. Look, monkey, I don't know where your sister is but I'm probably an only child, so you've got the wrong person. Hands off the breasts, please." She sneered.

After another moment of staring, she broke into a wide, watery grin and ignored her demand. "It really is you!" She exclaimed.

"I-Pin-chan? Is everything alright?" The brown monkey's stupid monkey mother poked her head around the corner.

"Yes, mama! Look, look, it's big sister!" The Chinese monkey exclaimed in accented Japanese.

The stupid monkey blinked at her before smiling. "Hello! It's nice to meet you! I'm Nana Sawada, but you can just call me mama!"

She bristled. 'Mama'? Yeah, right, no way. This woman would never replaced Kawashi-san or her original mother. No way in hell.

"Hn. I'm here to deliver papers for the stupid monkeys… You know, your monkey son and his monkey coworkers?" She added when Nana blinked confusedly.

"Oh! Tsu-kun and his friends are in the living room! Thank you for delivering their papers! Feel free to stay as long as you want!" The monkey chirped before heading back inside the kitchen where she continued to cook (probably).

Oddly enough, nobody seemed to notice the absence of the assassin monkey until she barged into the living room with said monkey clinging to her arm. Upon seeing her face, brown monkey and co. (and was that Fon-baby and the other baby and _more_ babies? And those strong monkeys from, like, a few months ago?) froze like children caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. Er, she hadn't really gotten the hang of the weird sayings in this world yet. In her previous life, it was more like 'froze like a genin after his first kill' or morbid shit like that… so yeah.

"Hn. Who's fucking monkey is this? It's annoying as hell," she snapped, lifting her arm to showcase the assassin monkey stuck to it.

"Y-You… I…" The brown monkey choked out, looking near tears.

In fact, Fon-baby, Good Acquaintance, and the brown monkey's coworkers all looked rather choked up, as well.

"Hn. What the hell is your problem, monkey? First you and your little shitty friends ditch class and make me come here and deliver papers to you, and now you're not even going to take responsibility for your freeloader monkey? Tch," she scoffed.

Cow monkey promptly burst into tears. The assassin monkey and brown monkey were not far behind. Paling, she shoved the papers onto the nearest counter and tore the assassin monkey off of her, dropping her next to Fon-baby.

"Okay, what the fuck… I'm out," she muttered, making her way towards the door.

Suddenly, she was tackled from behind by the cow monkey and, once more, the assassin monkey. "Big sister!" The latter wailed, sobbing into her stomach.

"Hn. Get off of me, you stupid monkey—"

"Big sister! You're alive!"

"Is that a threat!? Why the hell wouldn't I be, monkey!?"

"Y-You were— w-wait, you don't… remember anything?" The brown monkey stuttered.

Seeing the dubious and slightly crestfallen expressions of the people surrounding her (when did they get there? Shit, she was getting rusty) she quickly backtracked.

"Hn. I did have this really weird as hell dream about a marshmallow monkey and probably dying but it was just a dream, you stupid monkey!" She snapped.

"Is that all, Ha— Kurokawa-chan?" Fon-baby inquired, stumbling over her name.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Yeah, that's all, monkey," she huffed, ignoring his concerned gaze. "I'm not fucking delusional, unlike all of you. Hn."

The stupid boxing monkey barked with laughter, a wide grin on his face. "This is EXTREMELY good news! Kurokawa-san is EXTREMELY well! JOIN THE BOXING CLUB, KUROKAWA-SAN!"

"Hn."

"Sorry for tackle you, big sister! We are just so happy!" Assassin monkey squeaked.

"Yeah! Sorry… But really, it wasn't a dream! We swear!"

"Hn."

"Uh, are you not going to use words, Kurokawa-san…?" The brown monkey piped up.

"Hn."

"I guess not, then!" Baseball monkey laughed.

"VOOOOOOOOIIIII! Trash, get your fucking asses back here right now!" Silver monkey roared from across the living room.

"Ushishishi! The prince is wondering why the peasant does not remember him," the blonde monkey twirled three silver knives in his right hand, an unnerving grin on his face.

"Tch. You were in my dream. The stupid monkey with a knife play fetish," she scoffed.

There were many shocked and amused expressions, but the aforementioned monkey was rather irritated.

"Ushishishi. The prince does not have a knife play fetish, peasant," he snarled.

"Hn. The knives in your hand aren't helping your case."

"Kaching! The prince will kill—"

"Shut up, trash!" Scarred monkey roared, throwing a wine bottle at silver monkey for no apparent reason.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR, YOU SHITTY BOSS!?" Silver monkey roared, drops of wine and shards of glass falling into his face.

"Tch. Scum."

"WHY YOU—"

"Ah, Tsu-kun!" Stupid monkey's voice interjected from the kitchen, surprisingly enough. "Dinner is ready! All your friends are welcome to stay!"

"O-Okay, mom!" Brown monkey shouted back.

"Hn. I'm leaving, monkeys. Get off."

"E-Eh? A-Alright, Kurokawa-san… But you can stay for dinner if you want…"

"Hn. The matron makes dinner at five. I'm going to be late. _Get off_."

'Matron?' Brown monkey mouthed at his coworkers, who shrugged.

"Er, right…"

"Kurokawa-chan, I can accompany you back home. I'm about to leave, anyways," Fon-baby offered, smiling amiably.

She eyed him critically. "Fine, monkey."

Fon-baby beamed at her and carefully pried his monkey student and the cow monkey off of her. Muttering under her breath, she stood (suddenly regretting not wearing safety shorts under her skirt) and brushed the dust from her clothes.

"Bye, Kurokawa-san! We'll see you in school tomorrow!" Baseball monkey called after her and Fon-baby as they left.

She slammed the door shut behind her.

"Ugh, stupid monkeys," she muttered.

"Kurokawa-chan, you said you had a dream about a marshmallow monkey, and… dying. Would you mind elaborating?" Fon-baby inquired politely as they began their trek towards the orphanage.

"Hn. It was just a stupid dream. There was a stupid marshmallow monkey trying to take over the world or something, and the brown monkey, his coworkers, you, and that those other monkey babies fought him, or something. The strong monkeys were also there somewhere." She stated shortly.

Fon-baby just continued smiling expectantly.

"...There was a lot of fighting. I was fond of some stupid monkeys that I've never even spoken to before and they were in danger so I fucking took a hit for them and died," she muttered, flushing in embarrassment.

"I see," Fon-baby hummed.

They continued on in comfortable silence, with her scrutinizing the not-baby discreetly the whole time (although he probably knew and was just indulging her. Bastard.).

As soon as the orphanage was in sight, she came to an abrupt stop, and Fon-baby caught himself before he crashed straight into her legs. "Did it really happen, then?" She asked stiffly.

"Your dream?"

"What else?"

Fon-baby tilted his head.

"I can't say," he began after a moment, "but the future is not set in stone, Kurokawa-chan."

"I wasn't—" she sputtered.

"It's alright to be afraid, Kurokawa-chan," Fon-baby chided.

She huffed in annoyance. Who was he, her mom? "I'm not afraid of dying."

"No?"

"Hn. Everyone dies at some point."

"I see. Then, if I may ask, what _are_ you afraid of, Kurokawa-chan?"

"...There were some weird parts of my… dream." She began hesitantly.

Fon-baby tilted his head, prompting her to continue.

"Hn. You were still a fucking baby in the future, but I'm pretty sure that you… that I… ugh. Shit." She muttered placing her head in her hands.

Fon-baby just got the oddest look on his face, something between embarrassment, nervousness, and amusement. "The future is not set in stone, Kurokawa-chan," he repeated.

"Hn," she muttered, lowering her hands from her face.

As they came to reach the gates of the orphanage, Fon-baby bowed to her. "We part ways here, Kurokawa-chan. I hope to see you again soon in good health."

She swallowed thickly. "Hn. Just Hana."

Fon-baby blinked, confused. "Just call me Hana, I meant!" She spat.

The not-baby hid his sudden grin behind his sleeve. "Hana-chan, then. Please have a good day."

"Whatever."

And if she had to repeat the mantra 'he's not really a baby. It's not cradle robbing if he's not really a baby' in her head a hundred times before she could sleep that night then that was her business, and her business alone.

* * *

There is a sense of normalcy in her life for the next four years or so. She goes to school, does well, gets accepted into a good college, and then it is break and she trains her ass off as usual. She writes to Fon-baby because he doesn't have a phone, texts Good Acquaintance because he _does_ have a phone, and generally ignores the stupid monkeys surrounding her in the orphanage.

Fon-baby hasn't replied to her letter and she is annoyed. She convinces herself that it is because he is being rude and she puts time and effort into her letters, but she knows better.

Then one day she opens the door to her room and a Good Acquaintance look-alike stares back at her, a smile on his face. "Hello," he says, "may I come in, Hana-chan?"

"...Hn. Who the hell are you?"

Good Acquaintance look-alike blinks. "Ah, my apologies, Hana-chan. It's me, Fon."

She stares at him for a long, long minute. Finally, she opens her door and steps to the side, allowing him in. "I have oolong tea," she mutters because she drinks it in memory of Fon-baby— Fon?— because she is quite taken with him.

"Thank you," he states pleasantly as she motions for him to sit.

"Hn. You're not a baby, Fon." She observes.

"Indeed. The curse was broken by Tsunayoshi Sawada a few years ago, and Verde figured out a way for us to age quickly as long as we— the Arcobaleno— live together. And— oh, have I been upgraded? I am no longer a monkey," he smiles charmingly at her.

Her eye twitches. "You are not a baby anymore. I cannot call you Fon-baby in my mind and you do not act like a monkey."

"Thank you, Hana-chan. That's very kind of you."

"Hn. I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."

"Really? I think I'm being perfectly serious," he says, still smiling.

"...Hn. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be on missions now that you can fight unhindered by your curse?"

"Ah, I was hoping to see you, Hana-chan. I'm sorry I couldn't visit earlier— you live quite far from where the Arcobaleno and I are living, and I was not allowed to leave the house for longer than two days at a time. Also, you are now nineteen years old," he adds as if this is some sort of life-changing discovery.

"I've been nineteen for four months. Why."

"Since, physically, I am currently twenty-three years old, four years older than you, I can ask you if you would like to go to the new Chinese restaurant down the street with me. I've heard that their mapo tofu is quite delicious," the Asian man explains calmly, still smiling.

She stares at him blankly for approximately thirty seconds before she stands abruptly, grabs him by the collar of his shirt, and kisses him.

It lasts for as long as they can hold their breath but she is still unsatisfied when they break apart.

"So," Hana drawls, "about that mapo tofu…"

* * *

**This series is under 'Harry Potter & Katekyo Hitman Reborn!' because it'll mostly be exactly that. However, I'll have other fandoms here too if I get that far. Sorry if you were expecting the first one to be a HP & KHR crossover… don't worry, the next one probably will be. Hopefully.**

**When Hana talks about the relationship between Future-Fon-baby and her, it's not sexual in any way. It's like Bianchi and Reborn, except she's not... Bianchi, and he's not Reborn.**

**Also, I planned for Sasuke to be OOC because this is more Hana with Sasuke's memories than Sasuke-is-Hana. That's why he's more Hana than Sasuke, even if he does keep saying 'hn' every other sentence...**

**The fic gets less and less angsty as it goes on (I hope) because Hana is becoming less Sasuke and more, well, Hana, because she's forming bonds with people and not relying on Sasuke's memories for everything.**

**Yeah. Thanks for reading, sorry for not updating my other stories but not really because I really needed to write this.**

**Review?**


	2. two: harry potter

**Rated: T (cursing, blood and gore, brief mentions of suicide, semi-sociopath!harry; unhinged and detached but still caring for people he loves and definitely byakuran-like)**

**Categories: Friendship, Adventure, Humor, Angst, Romance**

**Fandoms: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!, Harry Potter**

**Characters: Harry Potter, Byakuran, Shoichi Irie, Tsunayoshi Sawada**

**Pairings: 10051, R27 if you squint**

* * *

**two: harry potter**

Harry James Potter, the boy-who-lived, the man-who-conquered, did not die unceremoniously in his sleep or go out with a bang in a fight with a Death Eater wannabe— in fact, he did not pass on at all.

He continued to exist for a long, long time. After faking his death when he should've been in his late teens, he disappeared from the face of the Earth. Not a peep was heard from him— not that anyone would really look for him—as he travelled. His journey around the world was enlightening, to say the least. Italy, France, Spain, China, Japan… after spending decades in each country he picked up on the dialects of their languages: Italian, French, and Spanish came first. He took classes for Mandarin and lived in Kyoto for a good twenty years. It was pleasant— after the first few years he'd realized how… trapped he had been in the wizarding world. Everyone had expectations and ideals for how he should look, act, feel… He still loved his closest friends, sure, and he definitely missed Sirius and Remus (Teddy knew he was alive and met up with him at least once a month. His godson was the most amazing young man _ever_.) but he didn't miss them enough to go back. He needed space, and he'd had none with the Dursleys or with his friends. Dumbledore… He didn't like to think about the man. It was annoying.

(He carried a portrait of his parents around in his pocket— it was small, rectangular, and enchanted like the portraits at Hogwarts. He'd found it in one of the old Potter mansions in his dad's old bedroom. He supposed it was cool, getting to know his parents that is, but they were dead, and it was just a portrait.)

The muffled hisses of pain was what drew Harry to that dark, dark alleyway in Italy. Despite common belief, he still kind of cared about people. Just because he worked in the mafia now didn't mean he was a total jackass like that 'World's Greatest Hitman' guy.

So he stepped into that alleyway and a kid stares back at him. A fucking kid. With red eyes and a snarl on his face and a hunch to his shoulders that Harry was very, very familiar with.

This boy was who he would've become had the Dursleys actually abandoned him on the streets as they had planned.

"Hello," he said pleasantly, "are you alright?"

"Fuck off, trash!" The kid snarled, clutching his bleeding stomach in pain.

"Ah, sorry, I just noticed you were bleeding. I'm a doctor, you see, so…" Harry ignored the flash of anger that sparked in his chest.

"I told you to fuck off! You're fucking here to kill me, aren't you!? I'll fucking destroy you, scum!"

Harry just smiled blandly and continued walking towards the kid. He was never good with children, but he just hoped he didn't traumatize this one like he did with that one little boy back in China…

Oh well.

The boy tried to bite off his fingers and punch him and kick him but he was weakened by the wound (a stab wound, he observed) in his stomach. Harry placed a hand on the kid's chest and the boy froze long enough for him to pull the knife out of his stomach. In a surprising show of courage, the kid didn't even bat an eyelash, but he eyed Harry suspiciously, hands curled into fists and flames sparking off of them.

Harry merely smiled flatly and placed his hand over the wound. "You're like us," he said, "you can use your Dying Will."

"Us? Dying Will? What the fuck are you talking about?" The boy sneered.

"The mafia," Harry replied mildly after he was sure nobody was listening in on their conversation. "It's the mafia's greatest secret. Our flames. Your flames are orange, which means you're a Sky, the harmonization. You may have a secondary flame— I'd guess Storm, disintegration, because of your personality. Then there are Mists, who are typically illusionists— people call them 'deceiving' but I don't really like that description. Rains are tranquility, basically, and Clouds are solitary creatures. Lightnings are typically the ones to draw danger to themselves, sometimes for the sake of their famiglias. Suns are usually healers, although the World's Greatest Hitman is a Sun, so…"

The kid stared at him blankly before narrowing his eyes. "Why the fuck are you telling me this, scum?"

"Because you'll need to be prepared for the mafia! As a Sky, people will naturally seek you out for harmonization."

The kid sneered at him.

"Oh, harmonization is kind of like a feeling of… home? Skies are the harmony of the elements, which means that elements will seek you out to form flame bonds with you. You don't always get a say in it if they force themselves on you. Breaking a bond is like tearing off someone's right arm, or something. Never experienced it, but I've seen elements— especially Skies— get pretty screwed over after," Harry explained hesitantly.

He had no idea if the kid was following or not, but apparently he was because the little shit just scoffed at him and returned to glaring at Harry's hand. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Ah! I have a secondary Sun flame! Suns are yellow, by the way, and Lightnings are green, Storms are red, Mists are typically indigo but can also be blue, Clouds are purple, Rains are blue, and Skies are orange. You're in luck, 'cause I learned how to use my Sun flames a while back in Venice, so this stab wound should be all healed… now!" The wizard smiled brightly as the wound closed up, brushing dust off of his pants as he stood.

"Well… I guess I'll see you around sometime, kid. Have a good one!" He hummed, exiting the alleyway nonchalantly.

The kid glared heatedly at the stranger's back, orange flames exploding into life in his fists, quickly turning an eerie golden color. "Tch," he muttered, "scum."

* * *

The next time Harry ran into anyone of importance was in France. He was strolling around Paris, ignoring the wide-eyed looks he garnered from other flame-active mafioso as he brushed past them. Sky flames were annoying like that— no matter how many times he tried to reign them in, they just kept leaking out of him, searching for harmony. But he couldn't do that to any of his potential elements. Keep the wizarding world from them if he trusted them so much, keep his status as… non-human from them in fear of discrimination. Yes, Harry was a coward of the highest caliber. He was afraid of harmonization because of all the things that it meant for him and the people he loved.

It was terrifying. It was the source of his nightmares.

And then a purple-haired Cloud baby slammed into him right in front of his apartment, looking rather singed. "Hey, you," it squeaked, "can you help me out, buddy? Please? I've kinda got some people after me…"

Harry blinked. "Oh, sure!" He exclaimed, unlocking his door.

"Thanks, man!"

"Ah, it's no problem," he murmured, "I feel you. I just wish more people would let me crash at their place when I'm in peril."

"The perks of being a baby!"

"Oh, right, you're Skull de Mort, aren't you?" Harry smiled, inwardly cackling at the baby's name.

"Yes! It is I, the great Skull! Of course you would recognize me, the Immortal Stuntman! The man hated by Death himself!"

Harry choked on his spit, slamming the door shut behind him and locking up quickly.

"You don't know the half of it," he muttered.

"Eh? What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing! Sorry, I never introduced myself. I'm Byakuran," he lied smoothly, "Byakuran Gesso."

The magical world was good for something, at least— he was able to take potions to change his appearance. His hair was still messy, but it was purple-white now and a few inches longer. He no longer wore glasses, and his features were distinctly Japanese but with some European touches. His eyes were a startling violet, and there was a violet tattoo under his left eye courtesy of the famiglia he'd joined a while back (the Gesso, if you hadn't already guessed. They'd proclaimed him their boss after he killed the previous one, even after explaining a hundred times that it was an accident and he wanted nothing to do with the mafia. It all worked out in the end, he guessed.). His appearance was so strange and so drastically different that nobody would ever guess that he had once been Harry Potter. He even looked more like a kid than the age he was stuck at before he'd abandoned his life as Harry Potter (thirty-two) because why the hell not? He wanted another chance at childhood, dammit!

It was nice to be looked at weirdly for his appearance and not for being Harry Potter, though he would've preferred not being looked at weirdly at all.

"Oh," the baby muttered, "Gesso? I've heard of you… but I thought their boss didn't have any kids? And you've got the tattoo?"

"Oh, this? I may or may not have accidentally killed the previous boss. But I'm on vacation now, so I've been travelling! Isn't Paris beautiful?" Harry— Byakuran, now, he should stop referring to himself as Harry— changed the topic smoothly.

"Er, yeah, it's pretty great."

There was an awkward silence after that which Byakuran promptly broke by bursting into laughter. "Ha… ha… this is hilarious! An Arcobaleno in my apartment… and I haven't even tried to take over the world yet…"

"E-Eh!? World domination!? Uhm…"

"Ah, sorry about that… I've just not spoken to anyone in awhile! I'm going crazy!" He exclaimed dramatically.

"Right… Okay… Well, I have to go now. Things to do, places to be, people to see… you know. Uh, thanks and stuff. Bye!" The baby hollered, jumping out of Byakuran's open window.

He blinked. "Did I scare him off?"

* * *

He was friends with a redheaded boy who lived in America. They met while Byakuran had posed as a high school student named Byakuran Johnson, a half-Japanese boy from Washington. Shoichi was wary of him at first, always shooting him uneasy and slightly horrified looks, but eventually they moved past that when Byakuran saved him from being mugged. The poor guy still got horrible stomach aches, though.

"Uhm, Byakuran-san," Shoichi had confronted him one day after disappearing in a mysterious cloud of pink smoke in their shared dorm. "I have something for you. It's… information from someone you know well."

Byakuran blinked. "Oh! Thanks, Shoichi-chan~!"

"Ugh… It's no problem…"

Humming happily, Byakuran opened the letter and then everything went black.

* * *

"What the fuck, Shoichi," was the first thing out of his mouth the moment he woke.

"Eh… sorry, Byakuran-san… Future-you told me to just give you that instead of the alternative…" the redhead muttered sheepishly.

"Alternative?" He drawled.

"Uhm, some sort of ring... "  
"Nevermind. Anyways, world domination? Really? I was kind of waiting for the Cervello, man..."

Shoichi blinked. "Waiting?"

"Yes, waiting! But now that you've brought it up… and there's the Arcobaleno… and that Sawada kid…"

"Er, Byakuran-san…"

"Hey, didn't you say you wanted to be a musician?" Byakuran pouted. "If we take over the world, nobody can stop you from becoming a world-renowned musician! Come on, Shoichi! It could be fun!"

The redheaded Japanese boy groaned and keeled over, clutching his stomach. "Future-me was an engineer at first, Byakuran-san… I don't know if I can do it…"

"Come on, Shoichi-chan~! Do it for me! For my other selves! For my godson (because I know you met him in the future and he laughed his ass off at my plan)! For your sister's future boyfriend! It'll be fun! That Sawada kid'll stop me anyway..."

"Ergh…I… Okay…"

"Yay~! Thank you, Shoichi-chan! Hey, hey, let's move to Namimori soon! I wanna meet the Tuna-fish! He's already in junior high by now! He's all grown up!"

"Byakuran-san, you still look like you're fourteen…"

"Yeah, but I'm actually thirty-four!"

Shoichi groaned in pain. Why the hell did he hang out with Byakuran again?

* * *

"Oh, you're, uhm, Irie-san, right?" Sawada Tsunayoshi asked hesitantly. "I am so, _so_ sorry about this…"

"It's fine, Sawada-san…" Shoichi muttered from his place on the floor.

He had been knocked down by Tsunayoshi and his friends on one of their escapades. His phone had cracked down the middle, and he had an important call to make later…

"DON'T SPEAK TO JUUDAIME LIKE THAT! SHOW HIM SOME RESPECT!" Gokudera roared, eyes alight with fury.

"U-Ugh… sorry, Gokudera-san…" the redhead muttered, clutching his stomach.

He could feel another stomach ache coming on… where was Byakuran when he needed him? This was his stupid idea, anyways… coming to Namimori again… and he'd just graduated high school in America, too (early!). They'd decided to take a year off before Shoichi went to college, as Byakuran really didn't need to. The amount of work that Shoichi put into studying the bullet shells only doubled as Byakuran's stupid, stupid plan unfolded. The idiot was already looking for his Funeral Wreaths… and he planned on Sawada beating him! He'd said it was going to be _fun_! Ugh…

"Haha, calm down, Gokudera! Irie-san didn't mean it, don't sweat it! Hey, you okay?" Yamamoto extended a hand to help the boy up.

"Yeah, uhm… Thanks…"

"Dame-Tsuna," a squeaky voice interrupted. "A mafia boss should always be aware of his surroundings."

Reborn, the World's Greatest Hitman. Ugh. The amount of tirades Byakuran went on about this guy… Shoichi grimaced.

"E-Eh!? Reborn!? Not in front of—"

"Uhm— I have to go— bye." Shoichi muttered, gathering up the broken bits of his phone and scurrying off.

"I think we scared him off," Tsuna sighed.

"He better stay away from Juudaime!"

"Ah, he seemed nice, though!" Yamamoto laughed.

Reborn's eyes narrowed as he glared after the redheaded boy. The kid had recognized him somehow— there was the telltale sign of awe and fear, which was (strangely enough) followed by annoyance.

Suspicious.

* * *

Byakuran hadn't always been Byakuran, just like how Harry Potter hadn't always been Harry Potter. He'd been Freak, Boy, before Hagrid came. Sure, he had a name, but only the teachers at school used it, and even then it was with wariness. They all thought he was a Freak. It was true. He was a Freak, even amongst other Freaks. Talking to snakes, surviving the killing curse, fighting Voldemort, duelling Death Eaters, _killing_ Voldemort, being a Horcrux…

He'd left the wizarding world soon after his eighteenth birthday, faking his own death and visiting Teddy and Andromeda once a year. He didn't care for the old lady but it was necessary. If she found out a 'stranger' had been visiting her grandson… Well, she couldn't be offed so easily. Shacklebolt had reformed the ministry, so there would be a legitimate investigation behind her murder. Anyway, soon enough it became bi-annual visits, then monthly once Teddy was old enough to understand why he'd left the wizarding world.

He'd travelled around the world and _seen_. He understood Dumbledore's greater good somewhat, but he would rather burn the whole world down than give up his freedom once more. There was also darkness in the world, something he was uncomfortably familiar with. He remembered— he'd let down his guard just once, and—

Byakuran Gesso had been created in a laboratory in one world, and in this one it was just the same. Harry Potter was no more once he took those potions to hide the hideousness of his visage, the reminder of all his mistakes.

And that letter— Shoichi meant the world to him. Even more than Teddy, no matter how cold that sounded. His godson was already a part of him, but Shoichi was the one thing keeping him tied to life— literally.

The letter had had some sort of seal on it that had unlocked his memories and expanded his… viewpoint… after he had touched it. He'd passed out because of the sudden influx of information and experiences from thousands of other Byakurans and other Harry Potters. His future-self had… spoken to him briefly through the letter. World domination sounded kind of fun, and nobody knew he was Harry Potter! He could see the appeal now and didn't blame Voldemort for changing his name. What kind of name was 'Harry', anyway?

Byakuran sat on the steps of the Gesso mansion and stared at the two pink-haired women in front of him. "I didn't know that the Cervello had a delivery service," he joked.

They didn't respond, instead holding out a small black box to him. "What's inside, a body?" He muttered, taking the box and opening it.

An orange ring with wings shone brightly from within the box. He stared at it, furrowing his brow. "Oh, the Sky Mare Ring? I think It'd look better in white," he hummed.

"The Sky Mare Ring has chosen you as its next owner. Use it wisely, Byakuran Gesso— Harry James Potter," one of the Cervello stated flatly.

"Oh, I see. I know that my other selves have this, and future-me, too… Well, thanks! I _can_ still do world domination with this, right?" He laughed nervously.

"The Ring has chosen you. Do with it as you please."

"Great! Thanks, Cervello-chan!" He chirped as they disappeared.

"Ah… Now, to find Bluebell-chan~!"

* * *

"You… you have _what_!?" Shoichi shrieked, clutching his new phone tightly against his ear.

"_I said that I got the Sky Mare Ring, Shoichi-chan~! The Cervello were feeling awfully generous today…~!_"

"You… I… Bya—"

"'_You and I'? Of course I'll go out with you, Shoichi-chan~! Why didn't you ask earlier?_"

"Wait, what!? I didn't— I wasn't—"

"_I'll see you in Namimori soon for our first date, then~! Bye-bye, Shoichi-chan~!_"

_BEEP_.

"He… He hung up on me…" Shoichi muttered, staring at his phone blankly. "What… the hell…"

* * *

"SHOICHI-CHAAAAAAAAAAN~!" Byakuran squealed, tackling his friend— boyfriend?— and hugging him tightly.

"Ugh… Byakuran-san, get off!" The redhead sputtered, face flaming.

"No way~! You didn't tell me you made new friends, Shoichi-chan~! I thought you were better than that!" The white-haired boy sniffled, shooting a mock-glare at where Tsuna and co. stood rather awkwardly.

"Uhm," Tsuna began, "we're not…"

"We're not friends. We just ran into each other. Literally." Shoichi huffed.

"Oh. Oops," Byakuran laughed sheepishly, finally letting go of the redhead. "I thought you might be cheating on me with another Sky, Shoichi-chan~!"

Tsuna and co. froze like a herd of deer in headlights, staring at him with wide eyes. "You— what—"

"Oh! Sorry, we have to go. Bye, Vongola-kun! Have a nice day, Arcobaleno-chan!" He laughed, grabbing Shoichi's arm as they both disappeared in a whirl of orange flames.

"What…" Tsuna began. "I thought that nobody knew…"

"Nobody is _supposed_ to know, Dame-Tsuna. Tch," Reborn muttered.

"Fuck," Gokudera deduced.

* * *

Ten years was not a long time. Compared to how long Byakuran would be around for, and how many years' worth of memories had had…

But it was long enough to take over the world and then lose control of everything. Long enough to become friends with the Sky Arcobaleno before drugging her, long enough to kill the Arcobaleno, long enough to have Tsunayoshi come to the future, long enough to have Tsunayoshi defeat him.

As he lay on the ground, black spots dancing in his eyes and orange flames licking away at his feet, he thought back to the first time he had died. In a forest, in the dead of night, with a dozen enemies and only one ally surrounding him. Sacrificing himself for the greater good… But this time he knew for sure he would be back. Perhaps not in time to fight back, in the present, but in the past he would still exist. It was a nice experience, at least.

"You... " Tsunayoshi swallowed thickly. "Why don't you fight back?"

"Fight back?" Byakuran muttered, blood spilling over his lips and dribbling down his chin. "There is no fight I can win in this state, Tsunayoshi-kun. Don't hesitate— just end it."

"You're not the same Byakuran," the brunette murmured.

"Byakuran is Byakuran. I am me. I was… someone else before Byakuran… I was chained to a title I hated, a family who despised me, a childhood of neglect… But Byakuran was something new. The person I wanted to be. Free, uncaring of others' opinions or lives..."

"Why? Why would you want to do this? If you're telling the truth and you lived through hardship…"

A wide grin played on his bloodstained lips. "'There is no good or evil, only power and those too weak to seek it.' I thought it rather fitting," he said, "that I become just like the man who I hated for so long, and who I finally vanquished with my dying will."

There was a sharp intake of breath from the purple Arcobaleno and the hooded seemed rather startled. "You are…"

"I am," he smiled flatly at nobody and nowhere.

"Is that all?" Tsunayoshi inquired.

"Of course not, Tsunayoshi-kun," Byakuran smirked, "there's so much more to say. But I'm afraid that we're out of time. I'll see you ten years ago, Tsunayoshi-kun~!"

Tsunayoshi startled. "What—"

Byakuran laughed as orange flames exploded from his body, followed by _painpainpain_ and the smell of burning flesh and—

Nothing.

* * *

Byakuran snickered at the sight of Shoichi slamming the door to their dorm open, eyes wide and frantically searching the room. "Byakuran-san— you— you're alive," he whispered.

"No duh, genius," the wizard huffed, "where'd you get that crazy idea from?"

"You fucking idiot," Shoichi sniffed, "don't _ever_ do that again."

"Hey, hey! You're the one who joined Tsunayoshi-chan! I thought we had a deal, Shoichi-chan~!"

"Ugh… My stomach…" The redhead groaned, ignoring Byakuran and shutting the door behind him.

"You deserve that stomach ache," Byakuran huffed, "you totally cheated on me with Tsunayoshi-kun. I saw you two—"

"No way! Stop fantasizing, Byakuran-san!"

"Oi! I'm not fantasizing—"

"I'm not kissing you until you apologize—"

"Eh!? This wasn't part of the deal—"

"Neither was killing the Arcobaleno—"

"Oh, come on, it was fun, admit it—"

"GAH! Hands off—"

* * *

"Tsunayoshi-san," Shoichi nodded at Tsuna.

The Arcobaleno Trials had finished and the curse was broken. Byakuran was grumpy and devouring bags of marshmallows at a time while Tsuna, his guardians, the Arcobaleno, and the Varia had a picnic thing to celebrate.

"Shoichi-san," Tsuna smiles, "how have you been?"

"Er, I've been well, Tsunayoshi-san—"

"I knew it!" Byakuran exclaims, drawing all eyes to him. "You _are_ cheating on me with Tsunayoshi-kun, Shoichi-chan!"

Tsuna chokes on his spit while Gokudera's eyes narrow in fury. "Juudaime would never—"

"I wasn't—"

Byakuran sniffs. "I thought we had something, Shoichi-chan! We travelled to the future together! To parallel universes! Is this how you thank me for helping you become a world-renowned musician that one time!?"

Shoichi gapes at his boyfriend. "You're delusional," he mutters.

Yuni sighs, smiling amusedly. "That's Byakuran for you," she giggles.

"I think I preferred him before whatever this is," Skull mutters.  
"Seconded," Viper huffs. "What happened to the man-who-conquered..?"

* * *

**The end. Semi-sociopath!Harry was kinda fun to write. I tried to make this story more 'Harry IS Byakuran' than 'Byakuran is REPLACED BY Harry'. Same with the previous one-shot.**

**If you don't like Harry trying to take over the world (for fun), then sorry. I thought it was kind of funny.**

**Harry is detached from the world in general, but loves Teddy, Shoichi, and trolling people. He's okay with Skull and Tsuna but doesn't really care about them either. Everyone else is about as worthless as dog crap to him so yeah. That's why he's 'semi-sociopath', because he's not full-on… sociopathic? Idk if this offends you then I'm sorry.**

**In here, Viper is not magical but is a renowned information dealer so they know about the wizarding world. Skull is a squib from the Black family, probably. Maybe one of Marius Black's kids or something, idk.**

**To the person who requested a Fate Apocrypha/Naruto crossover, I haven't watched Fate Apocrypha in years and can't remember anything about it. I'm sorry.**

**Here's a list of fandoms I DO know and can write for:**

**Naruto (and Shippuden)  
Katekyo Hitman Reborn!**

**Soul Eater**

**Fruits Basket**

**One Punch Man**

**Harry Potter**

**Fairy Tail**

**Tokyo Ghoul**

**Assassination Classroom**

**My Hero Academia**

**Hope you liked it,,, idk. I ship 10011 okay. Thanks. Bye.**

**Review?**


	3. three: sirius black

**Rated: T (cursing, mentions of suicide and death)**

**Categories: Angst, Family (kind of), Friendship (also kind of), Mystery (kind of)**

**Fandoms: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!, Harry Potter**

**Characters: Sirius Black, Skull, Arcobaleno, Harry Potter, Tsunayoshi Sawada**

**Pairings: Jily, Wolfstar if you squint **_**real hard**_**, SJ bromance**

**Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! and Harry Potter don't belong to me.**

* * *

**Edit, 25th Nov. 2019: Made some adjustments to grammar and spelling.**

* * *

**three: sirius black**

Sirius hates… whatever this is. He'd fallen through the veil, sure he was about to die even as Harry, his beloved godson, his _everything_, cried out in horror—

(Bellatrix's face at that moment is forever ingrained in his memory. The glint of Black Madness in her eyes, a snarl twisting her lips that quickly gave way to a too-wide grin, and _angerangerangertraitorbloodtraitorfrolickingaboutwithmudbloodsandsquibsanddiediediedie_—)

('_You failed us,' _James whispers, disgust reflected in his hazel eyes, '_traitor. You killed us. It's all yOUR FAULT_—)

And then he'd woken up in a body not right, in a world too far gone, in a place that made no sense.

('_You deserve this,_' Regulus snarls, '_you killed me. You didn't listen. You ignored me and I diED BECAUSE OF YOU_—)

"You must've hit your head hard, buddy!" A lean, tanned young man exclaims, running a hand through his hair (_jamesjamesjamesjamesheyprongshowsitgoingimsorrypleasedontleavenonono_) casually, despite the concerned glint in his eye. "You're part of our circus, man. Skull de Mort, the man who Death himself hates! The Immortal Stuntman!"

Sirius wants to laugh, but he recognizes the hysterical edge to his thoughts and quickly backtracks. (_'It's not your fault,'_ Harry chokes out) "Skull de Mort?" He mutters instead, flashes of vivid green (the color of Harry's _eyes_— _Lily's _eyes) racing through his mind.

"Yeah," the man ("It's Caden, man, Caden Lee!") sighs. "You were practicing for the upcoming show, some real dangerous stuff you were doin' there on that bike of yours, an' then you _fell_. Fifty feet up, you did. Not a pretty sight— damn, there was so much blood!—but it's a miracle you survived. I'm glad."

Sirius feels the hysteria slam back, full force. Tears prick his eyes as he whispers, "Right. Right, Caden. I'm— thanks. You're… you're a good guy."

"What?" Caden blinks. "Oh… Thanks, I guess, man. But you should rest now, 'kay? I don't want you suffering permanent damage or something."

"Okay," Sirius says, and that's that. He lies down on the surprisingly comfortable cot ("It's not funny, Mr. Black, Mr. Potter! You could've seriously hurt Mr. Snape—" Madam Pomfrey snaps at them from her place by his cot.) and sleeps.

* * *

Sirius talks to numerous members of the circus and constructs the mask of who he thought Skull de Mort was as a person. It's simple, really— after years of playing pranks and sneaking around Hogwarts, he's as good a liar as they come. (Really, he was surprised that Peter didn't—)

And so he becomes Skull de Mort. It's refreshing, to be looked upon with fondness instead of fear and horror and wariness as if he's going to explode and go on a murdering spree at the drop of a pin, even if he knows he doesn't deserve it. He knows it's wrong but Skull de Mort is so much like his past self that it _hurts_. (And if when he proclaims that he's the greatest man alive, hated by Death himself, he turns to his left and expects to see James grinning back at him, then that's his business and his business alone.)

"You did great, man," Caden grins, hazel eyes twinkling.

(And he looks so much like James that it _hurts_—)

"Thanks, mate," Sirius laughs.

* * *

He can't die.

He's _incapable_ of dying. (James screams and screams and screams, face twisted in fury as Lily fires spell after spell at him. He deserves this. He'll never be able to apologize, to hear them say '_It's alright, Sirius, it's not your fault_—' because he _knows_ it's his fault and now he'll never—)

("Look, Reggie! It's a book on _immortality_!" Sirius whispers conspiratorially.

"What? Siri, you should put that back. Immortality is—" His brother protests.

"It's fine, Reggie! I'm just going to read a few pages. I'm not actually going to—)

He discovers his unearthly ability when he's mugged in an alleyway on the way back from the bank. The leader of the group of ragged teens takes his wallet and stabs him through the chest with a rather large knife. He doesn't even register the fact that his body is being shoved into a dumpster because the world is already dead to him (or he's dead to the world, right? HahAHhAHAHA—).

There is a black nothingness and then he realizes that he's _dead_. But then the world is engulfed in purple flames and he's alive, kicking open the dumpster and gasping for air on the cold, hard ground.

(Caden finds him later and is horrified by the amount of blood that has soaked into his shirt. Sirius just laughs.)

He tests his theory in the privacy of his small, one-room apartment, where he hangs himself from his bedroom fan on Halloween night. (James laughs as they make plans to dress little Harry up as a lion for his second Halloween. They never do get those photos, in the end.)

It doesn't work. One moment his neck is snapped and his body is cold and dead and the next he's engulfed in purple fire and alive once more.

(Remus smiles at him from his place across the Gryffindor common room. "Good night, Sirius.")

* * *

Something in him _itches_ when he's handed that slip of paper with the meeting place on it by the masked man. It's the same feeling he got the night that— the moment that—

"I'm Skull de Mort, the Immortal Stuntman— the man even Death himself hates!" He exclaims, puffing up with pride before yelping when the man in the fedora shoots at him.

"Shut up, _civilian_," the hitman sneers.

("Traitor," Regulus whispers. "_Blood traitor_.")

Sirius laughs nervously and quickly shuts up.

* * *

He's dubbed 'Lackey' or 'Civilian' and promptly shoved into the metaphorical corner the moment it's confirmed that they are now a team. Skull doesn't really mind— it gives him more time to flesh out this new skin (no pun intended) of his, and if his new 'family' wouldn't even bother getting to know him then it was better for him. It made being Skull de Mort that much easier.

He made mental catalogues of his new teammates, however— _not comrades, never comrades_—and decided that maybe it was for the better he didn't approach the 'Sky' of the group.

(The 'Sky', Luce, had approached him and explained these… Flames… to him. He was given a book on the matter and then ushered off to his new quarters.

"Sorted by personality?" He had laughed in the heavy silence of his room. "I guess there's never a way out, even now.")

First is the Mist, Viper. Widely acknowledged as The Greatest Information Broker— they have info on even the most secretive of mafioso. They stick to their word and are open about their lack of empathy towards basically everything. Sell them bad information, though, and you'll have hell to pay (man, he's on a roll today!). However it's apparent that they love anything strawberry related, specifically strawberry milk, judging by how the fridge was filling up. They didn't particularly care for him.

Next, the Storm. Fon (which is probably not even his real name), also known as Eye of The Storm Fon because of his ability to stay calm in even the worst of situations (and also because what the fuck? People are pretty weirded out when they find out he's a Storm). Politest of the whole bunch— Luce is creepy as hell— and doesn't actively take part in ridiculing him. Seems to be good around children and has a passion for teaching.

There's Renato Sinclair, The World's Greatest Hitman. (Skull thinks that this title is rather self-explanatory but Sirius is skeptical.) Somehow classified as a Sun. (Perhaps he's enthusiastic about killing?) Seemingly hates Skull with a passion, or just loud, obnoxious people in general. Maybe civilians, too. Loves chaos.

Verde. No applicable last name to speak of. A scientist with a passion for his work despite what others think of it, and more specifically of _him_ ("What's the matter, Snivellus?" Sirius sneers. "Mummy and Daddy aren't here to save you now—"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, BLACK!" Lily roars, green eyes blazing with fury and James is shifting uneasily beside him—).

Lal Mirch. A strong woman in her own right, who doesn't particularly care for him either but tolerates his presence, just as she does with that blonde who is hopelessly in love with her.

("Sirius," twelve-year-old James Potter says in a daze after Lily slaps him silly for insulting Slytherin House, "I think I'm in love."

"Mate, you've got it bad," he drawls, five years later. "Did Evans turn you down again or something?"

"Yeah, how'd you guess, Pads?"

"You've got that look on your face again," he snickers, "the really stupid one."

"Ugh, you're horrible— I thought we were friends!"

"So, how do I look?" James grins, running a seemingly casual hand through his hair. But after years of knowing the idiot Sirius can tell he's practically shaking in his boots.

"Whipped," he responds anyways.

"Sure am," the younger man huffs.

Sirius ignores the uneasy feeling of ashes in his pocket. His mother had sent a howler just a few minutes ago, luckily when he was alone. He doesn't want to upset anyone— it's his brother's wedding day, after all.)

The lady is hot as hell, he'd give her that, but her attitude could use some work. She's quite the opposite of a 'tranquil Rain,' not that he's judging or anything.

Then… the Sky. Supposedly all-encompassing, but Sirius likes to think that Luce is all-consuming. Her presence is unsettling and although she seems to genuinely care for them something is _wrong_ with her. Not in the mental sense (as far as he can tell, at least), or physically (pregnancy is totally natural), but… His intuition has never failed him and he's not oblivious to the fact that sometimes, in the candle-lit darkness of the mission debriefings, he turns to look at her and sees Peter instead.

("How could you, Sirius!?" His friend— no, the _traitor_—screams, drawing the attention of muggles and magicals alike. "Lily and James!")

So, yes, he believes that it is better for him to remain the Lackey, the Civilian One, the Weakest of The Strongest (Luce laughs when he says this one aloud, an almost crazed glint in her eye. He wonders why, though perhaps he's better off not knowing.).

—and then suddenly they're atop a mountain, lured there by their so-called Sky and cursed.

_Him_, Sirius Orion Black III of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, cursed into the form of a baby and condemned to be so until the day he dies.

He laughs and laughs and laughs and he knows the others hate him for it.

(His mother would have a fit if she knew. "Stupid, worthless child—")

Sinclair's sneers and glares are suddenly _real_ (and when had they become fond? Amused?) and he shoots much, much more often and the bullets don't always miss, and Fon isn't smiling and Lal Mirch screams in the silence of the mountaintop and her student (stupid, stupid, stupid, why did you do this, Lal Mirch shrieks) is crying and Verde is shaking with fury and Viper has gone eerily still and—

Luce smiles at them. "I'm sorry," she says, "it's for the greater good."

("It's for the greater good, my boy. You understand, don't you?")

* * *

They split. They are the Arcobaleno now, supposed to be closer than ever as who better to share your pain with than with those suffering the same?

Apparently not, Sirius muses approximately three decades later. He's currently lazing around his humble abode— it's cozy, and he likes it. It's in the middle of nowhere, courtesy of a Famiglia he'd done a huge job for a while back. They'd been rather pleased and offered him this house, built specifically for someone his size. It's got a great view of the ocean and he likes watching the sunset. Although, it's in England, which brings up some pretty shitty memories. It's still nice, considering there's nobody to bother him for miles.

Except maybe it isn't that great for his mental health— he's begun hallucinating in broad daylight, now. And hearing voices in his head even more frequently. And… yeah. You get the point.

("No— it can't be me. I'm too obvious! Let's… let's switch to Peter, instead. Nobody would expect him, right?"

"Yeah, okay. I trust you, Pads."

_You shouldn't have. Don't trust me. It's my fault. _My fault you're dead_._)

Okay, remember the 'middle of nowhere' thing?

Yeah, apparently radiation doesn't give a damn. One moment he's alive and healthy, happily patting Oodako— and did he say he got an octopus? 'Cause he did and Oodako is awesome as hell ("I want an octopus when I grow up," Regulus whispers, awed as they walk past the tank in one of the shop windows in Knockturn Alley.

"Feel free," Sirius mutters. "I'm not backing you up if mother hears about this.")— and the next he's on the ground, mind hazy and eyes unfocused, still trapped in unbearable pain. But he thinks— I'm dying, aren't I?— and laughs (or tries to, at least). He's _immortal_. He can't die, dammit, no matter how much he wants to— to see James, Lily, Regulus, his Uncle Alphard—but then there's _nothing_.

* * *

"The Lackey isn't here," Reborn says, shooting a sharp look at Yuni, who looks near tears.

The Arcobaleno are revived, but— but there's no Skull. No annoying, cowardly brat to assure them that sure, they're all probably going to hell, but at least one of them has a somewhat bright future ahead of them, right? Skull has always been the 'kid' of the group, though in the beginning, Reborn thinks that perhaps they all hated him at least a little for his blinding innocence. It couldn't have been his fault, though, because isn't he just a teenager? Wasn't the annoying brat with Cloud flames just seventeen when they first met?

"He's— his soul just isn't _there_," Yuni whispers, swallowing thickly.

"His soul?" Verde frowns.

"You— I was able to bring you back because of the remnants of your Flames remained in the pacifiers. Your Flames are connected to your soul."

Reborn thinks he knows where this is headed, but he prefers to ignore the pit in his stomach.

"Skull's are just—" Yuni sniffles, "_gone_."

* * *

Sirius wakes up in his apartment—the one he sold_ ten years ago_—and stares at the ceiling for what feels like forever.

("Sirius," Harry smiles at him, the white nothingness surrounding them closing in slowly but surely, "it's been a while.")

* * *

Tsunayoshi can't say he's ever met the Cloud Arcobaleno before. Sure, he's heard Reborn and Colonello talk about him from time to time ("Lackey," Reborn mutters, "civilian coward.") and knows there's some kind of rift between the 'weakest Arcobaleno' and his fellow not-babies. Lal Mirch had said that it has something to do with the pacifiers they wear, something Skull had done or said. Tsunayoshi isn't exactly sure.

Still, he knows that Skull wasn't revived along with the rest of the Arcobaleno in The Future that Never Was, and mentioning that puts all of the Arcobaleno in a foul mood. They've been searching for the Cloud, according to Lal Mirch, but return empty-handed every time.

It's sad, he thinks. Tsuna isn't stupid and judging by the bad mood Reborn's been in and the things he's been told about the Cloud Arcobaleno, well, he can understand why the poor guy might want to hide, or— or, well, _die_. Because if he doesn't want to return to the living…

Tsunayoshi thinks that perhaps he and Skull are similar: cowardly and yet brave when it matters— underestimated and put down for things they can't control. Tsuna, with the seal on his Flames that had hindered his mental and physical growth, and Skull, with his status as a civilian and, sadly enough, for being himself. (Or is he even _himself_? Is he like Takeshi, then? Mask upon mask upon mask upon _mask_—)

Apparently the Arcobaleno don't really have to search because in the end they are all brought together to compete in these… trials. They are all there, even Skull, and Tsuna thinks that for the first time the Arcobaleno are _relieved_ to see the purple-haired Cloud, judging by the uneasiness on said Cloud's face when Reborn doesn't shoot at him.

There's something weird about Skull's representative, though. It's Enma Kozato and the other transfers but there's also another teen there. He's European, with messy black hair, rather pretty green eyes, wire-framed glasses, and a strange lightning bolt scar. He's thin and wiry, but good-looking. All in all, completely average. Hell, if it wasn't for the creepy-as-hell aura surrounding the guy, Tsuna might've pegged him as a civilian.

There is a black cloud of _something_ surrounding the boy, even if they (Tsuna knows most of the others sense it, as well) can't see it. It reminds him of death, even if he isn't very intimate with it.

"Hello," the boy starts off amiably, smiling benignly at them, "my name is Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you."

"O-oh," Tsuna stutters before bowing quickly, "I'm Tsunayoshi Sawada. It's nice to meet you, Potter-san!"

Only a few Arcobaleno and Takeshi introduce themselves. Potter doesn't look perturbed in the slightest. "Well," he says, grinning, "I hope we can be friends after all this is over!"

"When hell freezes over," Gokudera scoffs.

* * *

Hell froze over. The trials are complete and they're having a celebration to, well, celebrate. The Arcobaleno are free of the curse and there's a new solution to the Tri-Ni-Sette dilema but still, Skull is huddled in a corner whispering with Potter. It's rather suspicious, really.

"Lackey," Reborn calls, the other Arcobaleno crowded around him. "Get your ass over here."

"Eek!" Skull responds eloquently as Reborn shoots at him and people laugh, but Tsunayoshi knows that look.

The empty, flat expression that he, himself, used to have to cover up each and every single day, that he would see in the mirror before leaving for school. But now he has friends, and a family (his mother doesn't count— he loves her, sure, but what kind of parent calls their own kid useless? Likewise, his father is out of the question.), and he's genuinely happy to get up and out of bed in the morning.

"How have you been, Skull?" Fon asks gently.

"More importantly, _where_ have you been?" Lal scowls, but then winces when she realizes the implications of her words.

"Hehehe… here and there. I've been travelling on the civilian side, y'know!" Skull brushes off Lal's words in a seemingly nonchalant manor.

"Yeah, and getting thrown right back in jail every time you escape," Potter mutters.

Skull's sheepish expression falls flat for a split second before he's scowling at the boy. "We don't talk about that."

"Jail, Lackey?" Reborn says darkly.

"Yeah, this idiot," Potter sighs.

"How do you two know one another, if I may ask?" The ex-Storm Arcobaleno inquires.

Skull stares at Fon blankly before a horrified expression overcomes his face. "I didn't introduce you guys!? Ah, ah, I'm such a bad godfather!"

'Godfather?' Tsuna mouths, gaping at the pair. The others are no better off.

Potter grins. "Nah, you're good, godfather. For all the stunts you've pulled…"

"...I've always gone back for you so that we could suffer the consequences together!" Skull finished.

Reborn raises an eyebrow. "Whoever named you godfather must've been an idiot."

Simultaneously, Skull's and Potter's expressions twitch. Tsuna wants to laugh because _is no one else noticing this!? Whoever Potter's parents are are probably fucking DEAD and were GOOD FRIENDS WITH SKULL, good enough to NAME HIM GODFATHER and WHAT THE FUCK, REBORN!_

"Yeah," Potter mutters, "my dad was an idiot."

"Be glad you got your mum's common sense," the purple-haired Cloud sighs, and is that a British accent he hears? "Or some of it, at least."

The ex-Arcobaleno are looking increasingly curious, so Tsunayoshi interrupts loudly. "Hey, uhm, Yuni and Byakuran just got here. We should go greet them."

Luckily, everyone agrees after a few moments and shuffle off to greet the pair (or, really, just Yuni). Potter shoots him a grateful look and Skull ignores him entirely.

"...Remus," he hears the former Cloud Arcobaleno mutter as he leaves because his hearing has always been rather sharp and Reborn tells him that a Vongola's Flames are nifty like that.

"I know, Sirius. But it's been centuries." What?

"...It's my fault."

"It's not. You didn't kill them, Sirius."

"Yes, I did! I fucking told them to trust him and _I killed your parents_—"

He stops listening after that.

* * *

**Hey. I'm back. I hope you liked this one but if not, it's okay. Also did you notice that this was all in present tense? I was in a 'present tense' mood yesterday and so it was easy to get the first few pages done but today it was hell to write. I kept switching to past tense… ugh. If you find any of those mistakes please point them out to me! Anyways, I like Sirius so here you go.**

**It's a little ambiguous at the end but I'm a sucker for MoD!Harry so yeah, and it slowly but surely gets lighter throughout the story (and then that happiness dies a lonely death) because Sirius is moving on and also Tsuna isn't a reliable narrator.**

**IMPORTANT: Sirius' "...Remus" is left for your interpretation, but in the last line of dialogue the 'him' is Peter, NOT Remus.**

**Also, I'm going to try to get to some of the requests you guys have sent in, next. Thank you so much for all the favorites, follows, and reviews! They mean a lot! And I appreciate constructive criticism!**

**Reviews?**


	4. four: hinata hyuga

**Rated: T (mentions of death, some darker themes, maybe some stronger language)**

**Categories: Friendship, Angst, Some Drama/Family**

**Fandoms: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!, Naruto**

**Characters: Hinata Hyuuga, Chrome Dokuro/Nagi, Mukuro Rokudo, Ken Joshima, Chikusa Kakimoto, Chrome's/Nagi's Dad, Chrome's/Nagi's Mom**

**Pairings: N/A**

**Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! and Naruto don't belong to me.**

* * *

Hinata Hyuga, former heiress of the prestigious Hyuga clan, dies in a flurry of flames, ash, and malevolent chakra. There's no warning—one moment she is alive, fighting for her life and the lives of those she loves and the next she's burningburning_burnING_—

She dies without the love of her life ever even acknowledging her feelings, dies with the sound of Kiba's sobbing in her ears, dies with thousands upon thousands of regrets.

Maybe if she had been stronger—smarter—faster—_better_—

She can practically hear her father's cold, degrading remarks, feel her sister's disgust and indifference, as she slips away. Even her cousin, Neji—would he be disappointed in her, too?

("Just give it up," Neji sneers, "you're not _destined_ to be a ninja. You're _weak_."

"I can't believe that mother and Uncle Hizashi died for _you_," Hanabi scoffs. "You're not even worth _looking at_."

Her father's cold, blank eyes stare back at her whenever she looks into the mirror. She makes it a point to avoid reflective surfaces—Hanabi's words always ring true, after all.)

—and then she wakes up. There's nothing grandiose about this new world, nothing too great to distinguish her home life from what she once had but there is a startling lack of _chakra_ and _ninja_ and there are _no Elemental Nations_. The moment she realizes this is the moment something in her _cracks_—she's been holding onto the hope of maybe seeing Kiba and Shino again, maybe even Miss Kurenai or, or, Naruto, perhaps? Even Sakura would do, no offense to her fellow jonin. (She never liked the girl, even before Team Seven was formed, but could you blame her?)

"Nagi," her father would say, first thing in the morning at precisely 7:00 AM each day, "it's time to wake up. School starts in an hour, dear."

Her new father is her past mother: kind, caring, and soft-spoken. But nothing good ever lasts, and she hopes that she'll have even just one more year with her father before tragedy strikes.

(...No, not tragedy—_reality_.)

"Okay, father," she says each and every time, but they both know she appreciates him and loves and adores him, and he reciprocates this wholeheartedly. "Good morning."

"Good morning, darling. I'll see you at dinner… Have a wonderful day," he says, and then walks away, off to work.

(When her father is gone on a business trip and only her mother is left to wake her up, the cold emptiness in her chest seems to dig a little deeper, whisper a little louder.

"Nagi," her mother would say.

"Good morning, mother," she would respond quietly.

No more words would be exchanged and Nagi is never surprised when her mother doesn't even bother to make her breakfast. She learns to wake up earlier on the days when her father is away and do everything for herself.)

(Sometimes, her mother won't even call her by her name. She wonders if the woman does it to be intentionally cruel or if she truly can't be bothered to remember what she named her own child.)

Nagi attends primary school in an elite academy for academically gifted youths—she thinks that it is all rather overrated and that Kiba would have kittens (more like puppies) at the sight of a horde of four-year-olds sticking their noses in the air with a haughty glare reminiscent of her sister. She thought they were rather pitiful but chose not to comment on it.

Sometimes she dreams of Miss Kurenai, and other times of Kiba and Shino. Most often, though, is dreams (can you even call them dreams, though?) of her father, sister, and, worst of all, Neji.

("Lady Hinata…" Neji whispers, and there is blood everywhere and whose blood is it why is there a hole in her cousin's chest who's dying what hahahaha very funny Kiba stop it this isn't the time for a practical joke—)

(—right?)

The one time she dreams of Naruto, she wakes up to angry voices shouting from the dining hall. An oddly numb feeling settles over her, and she thinks that she may have even cracked a grin.

Hinata Hyuga enjoyed training with her teammates, admiring her love from a distance, protecting her village, and bonding with her cousin. She disliked her clan's prejudice and strictness, her sister's cruel words, and her father's cold shoulder and distaste.

Nagi Fukuizumi loves her father, magic tricks, exercising, and reading. She hates idealistic or unnecessarily cruel people and ramen. She has no friends, a distant but loving father and an uncaring, neglectful mother. She is not the picture of mental stability but neither was Miss Kurenai or Kiba or Shino so she thinks she's going to be alright (somehow, someway).

* * *

Kensuke Fukuizumi dies at the age of forty-six on June seventh, 20XX, when Nagi is five years old. She doesn't shed tears because her father had asked her not to cry for him but her mother is blank-faced for another reason entirely. She only begins to cry when the guests arrive, and had Nagi not been trained in the ninja ways she would believe that her mother is grieving, as well.

One year later, Nagi Fukuizumi is now Nagi Nadeshiko, and her step-father is the owner of a famous corporation all the way across the Pacific ocean.

She attends secondary school now, has no friends but many acquaintances, and is at the top of her class academically and physically. She has been "blessed" with good genes and thus receives many a confession from boys and girls alike but politely declines them all.

(Nobody could ever compare to her team, anyways.)

She is admired. She is loved. She is hated. She is a _genius_. She likes to think herself detached from reality, cold and indifferent to people she doesn't care for just like how her family is and was.

(But she is only human.)

There is a cat in the middle of the road, injured and bleeding and unable to get up. Nagi takes one look at it and thinks—_is this what she was like, just before she died? Before _Hinata_ died?_

The cat makes it to safety, fortunately enough. People look fondly at her for her actions (which are perceived as altruistic, in a sense) but nobody moves to push _her_ out of the way when the truck blazes down the street towards her. Nobody calls the ambulance until a good half a minute later, either.

* * *

They say her step-father and mother refuse to have an organ transplantation done. It's rather amusing, really, how appalled the doctor sounds. She wishes she could see their faces but she is in a coma and is only vaguely able to hear what's going on around her. That is, at least, until she's pulled into the library.

Or, the not-library—it's her mindscape, the boy with heterochromatic eyes says. "It seems that we've been drawn together by circumstance. Both in a coma, medically induced or not…"

"Are you sick, then?"

"Sick?" The boy looks vaguely amused. "No, not sick. I am, however, unable to make use of my own body at the moment."

Nagi notes the use of the word 'own' and files that information away for later. "Why are you here, then? Why have we been 'drawn together,' as you put it?"

"Our life energy matches, I suppose," the boy hums, looking thoughtful.

"...Energy?" Nagi prompts.

The boy does not respond and disappears from her mindscape. He does, however, show up an hour or so later and sift through the books lining the shelved walls with curiosity. They stay there in companionable silence for what feels like forever until he speaks up again.

"The energy… Illusions is what I use them for, you see."

Genjutsu?

"The energy is indigo," he murmurs, "and yours is as well."

"How can you tell?"

The boy wordlessly points to the domed, glass ceiling up above and Nagi blinks when she spots a purple flame in place of a sun in her mindscape's sky. "You'd do well with illusions," he says.

"...?"

"Tell me, Nagi Nadeshiko," he murmurs and _how does he know her name?_ "Is it true that you remember your past life?"

.

.

.

.

.

(What...?)

.

.

.

.

.

Nagi's face remains perfectly blank but her thoughts are going haywire. _How? Why? When? Where?_ This boy has been registered as a threat and it's unnerving her greatly. How can he know? Is he _like her_?

"And if I do?" She offers after a few moments.

"Then we're more alike than I thought."

She swallows thickly and twiddles her thumbs slowly, a nervous tic from Hinata carried over into this life. "You…"

He smirks at her. "I am Mukuro Rokudo, and I am your ticket to a new life. Metaphorically speaking, of course," he adds on when she tenses up warily.

"Mukuro Rokudo?" She tests out the strange name carefully, oddly arranged syllables rolling off her tongue smoothly. "...Corpse?"

His smirk widens when she does not challenge his earlier statement. "That's a story for another day, my dear. For now, we must get you out of that coma of yours, and a new name if we want to be sure…"

Nagi isn't quite sure who this boy is or what he wants from her, but she thinks that this marks the beginning of a beautiful relationship—one that can put even her love for her father to shame.

* * *

They talk for months as Chrome's body begins to fail and Mukuro gathers his strength so as to create illusionary organs from her. She discovers that he wants to use her body as a vessel to further himself and doesn't mind all too much, as she is quite taken with him and owes him a great deal. Though she doesn't go into details about her past life, she has admitted a few key points which Mukuro reciprocates to the best of his abilities. He is a year older than her and quite eloquent for his age, and an experiment of the Estraneo's, a mafia family, apparently, which he despises greatly. There are two other victims with him that he knows of and she is the third person he has ever made proper, willing contact with.

Though she's not quite sure what he thinks of her, Mukuro is a breath of fresh air for Chrome. He doesn't care that she comes from a wealthy, famous family or that she's naturally not an energetic person, or even that her childhood hasn't been the greatest. (His is even worse.) She thinks he might be fond of her as well, and she sees him as something of an older brother figure, someone she can't really live without.

Eventually, Mukuro is once again strong enough to create illusionary organs for her (he said something about an experiment that had drained his energy. She had noticed that he'd reached instinctively for his strangely sharingan-esque eye as he had spoken.). She wakes up in the dead of night when there is no nurse checking up on her and allows Mukuro to take control of her body. He leaves an illusion as a stunt double in the cot, faking her death, and sneaks out of the room on shaky legs.

He manages to take her as far as her school before he hands control back to her. Luckily, she remembers that there's a broken gate at the side of the school that they never got around to fixing so she sneaks in, using the walls as support, and finds a spare uniform in the nurse's office. There's also some used sneakers that are only slightly bigger than her own shoe size so she takes those as well before absconding.

After days of sleeping in alleyways and going dumpster diving, she makes it back to her house and sneaks in through a path she had created in the hedges when she was younger. Her room is left mostly untouched so she snatches up her credit card (it's in a separate account, and her parents aren't notified of any extractions for some odd reason. She doesn't even know why she has a card at her age.) and any cash she can find, grabs a travel bag and stuffs her most comfortable and practical clothes in it along with hygiene products, her phone (she doubted her step-father was smart enough to realize she's still going to be using her phone and likely data), and a single picture of her father. Mukuro scoffs at her when she does this but she ignores him and places an illusion around the room as he had shown her to prevent anyone from wanting to enter it.

Finally, after pilfering the kitchen for a large supply of food, showering, and passing out on her bed for a good sixteen hours, she leaves her house and makes her way towards the airport. Mukuro says that she should not go to Italy as it is far too dangerous but he has heard good things about the countryside in Japan from an old 'roommate' of his. Nagi knows that she has a cousin who lives across Japan that she has only seen once before at a family event, and Mukuro promises that a simple illusion should convince him that she has been sent by her parents to live with him for a few years. When she asks what will happen if her cousin contacts her parents, her companion says not to worry about it.

So she sneaks into the airport and onto a plane after Mukuro places a simple illusion on her, one that he has been practicing to try to escape his captors. The plane lands near the coast and about seven miles from where her cousin lives so Nagi takes her chances and walks after being given a map by a kindly old woman a few streets back. Her feet hurt like hell and she feels like she's about to pass out but finally, _finally_ she makes it to her cousin's home. From there, Mukuro takes over and convinces her cousin, Kazuki Fukuizumi, that she is here to stay for a few years. Nagi only feels slightly guilty for taking advantage of her cousin like this, but…

'_Just a few years, right?_' She asks.

'I'll escape this place and then we can find each other… I may even bring along those two boys from down the hall,' Mukuro replies swiftly, sounding absolutely sure of himself.

'_Please escape soon, Mukuro,_' Nagi closes her eyes, the beginnings of sleep already beginning to cloud her mind as she lays down on her new bed. '_Stay safe._'

If Mukuro says anything after that, she doesn't hear it because she is already within the clutches of sleep.

* * *

Years pass, and then one day her cousin dies. His heart fails and she collapses in the middle of cooking dinner, spilling boiling water all over his body as he crashes to the ground, lifeless. The authorities deem it a tragic accident of some sort, and how they came to that conclusion Chrome does not know. It's glaringly obvious to her that something is not right. It's the same feeling she gets when she thinks of Mukuro, of what Mukuro has done for her, the illusory organs he has given her.

.

.

.

She does not cry because Mukuro hears her every thought. Mister Kazuki is mourned in silence by a single flower at his grave.

.

.

.

(She knows a murderer when she sees one.)

* * *

Mukuro says that his companions, Ken and Chikusa, have broken out of Vendicare once more and are waiting for her as instructed by him. It takes her two and a half weeks to get there by train and foot but she makes it to her destination relatively unscathed and with a slight smile on her face. '_Mukuro's companions,_' she thinks. '_I wonder what they are like?_'

'Loud,' Mukuro responds. 'Annoying and hot-headed. That's Ken—Chikusa is the total opposite. They are both, however, completely loyal to me.'

'_Like Kiba and Shino, then,_' she hums.

'I suppose, though they're much less amenable than your old friends,' her mental companion drawls.

She's about to respond when she hears a growling sound coming from the ramshackle building to her left. '_Dog?_'

'No,' Mukuro says dryly, 'Ken.'

"Who the hell are you, byon!? And what're you doing here!?" A loud, throaty voice snarls in place of the growling.

She spots a head of blond hair and a scarred face and blinks. "Ah, I'm Chrome Dokuro… Mukuro sent me here to meet you."

Ken's eyes narrow and he reaches for something in his right pocket. "Prove it, byon."

'Let me handle this, Chrome,' Mukuro murmurs.

'Alright,' is the last thing she thinks before everything goes black.

* * *

She doesn't know what Mukuro said to Ken and Chikusa but they seem to acknowledge that she is their last connection to Mukuro 'physically' and that they can at least trust that she's loyal to him. They don't particularly like her, but she's not too keen on them yet, either. Mukuro says that they'll grow on her like fungi that can only be exterminated by means such as acid, fire, explosives, etc.

He also says that she's too likable a person for them to not hold her dear within the next few months tops. She thinks that he's trying to flatter her but doesn't see a reason why so instead she chooses to not comment on this. Mukuro just 'kufufu's amusedly.

"Ken," she says one day, a few months later, after staring out the window for an indeterminate amount of time, "Chikusa, there's an important-looking man outside the base."

"What!?" Ken barks, scrambling to the window and pushing her aside.

Chikusa stares at Ken blankly before turning towards Chrome. "What does Mukuro say?"

'Vongola,' the blue haired teen bites out, 'he's here for you, Chrome. They wouldn't come for Ken or Chikusa.'

"Mukuro says that he's Vongola (Ken snarls angrily) and he's here for me," she frowns.

"For _you_, byon?" Ken says dubiously, looking more upset than usual for some strange reason.

There's a knock on the door. Chrome grimaces before standing and walking towards the entrance sedately, opening the old, dilapidated door gently. "Good morning," she says. "How can I help you, Vongola?"

The man's eyes narrow. "You are Chrome Dokuro, correct?"

'_How do they know my name?_' She asks Mukuro warily.

'Vongola has spies everywhere, my dear. It's not unlikely that they began watching you the moment you set foot in Namimori.'

"...Yes. And you are?" Chrome replies politely.

"Iemitsu Sawada (Mukuro's mood plummets immediately), External Advisor of the Vongola Famiglia, Ninth Generation."

"I see," she says, "it's very nice to meet you, Mr. Sawada. Would you like to come in?"

"Thank you but I'm quite alright. I'm here to offer you the honorable position as Mist Guardian of the Vongola Tenth Boss in the upcoming Ring Battles, Miss Dokuro," Sawada says abruptly.

"Ring battles?"

"A type of competition between two opposing parties within the Vongola family for the title of boss—currently it's between the leader of the Varia, Vongola's elite assassination division, and my son Tsunayoshi Sawada and his guardians. If you accept this offer then you will be granted a place in Vongola and serve as Tsunayoshi Sawada's Mist Guardian, Miss Dokuro."

"...I see," she mutters.

'_Mukuro?_'

'...A chance to usurp the mafia from the inside, then, and find that annoying skylark. Do it, my dear Chrome. For us.'

"Alright," Chrome agrees, "I'll do it."

Sawada nods curtly, not looking perturbed by her quick reply at all, and hands her a small black box. She opens it carefully and inside she finds half of a ring—it's indigo, like hers and Mukuro's Flames. "Half of the Vongola Mist Guardian ring," he says, "goes to you. The other half to the opposing party. Your battle will take place at noon next week against Mammon of the Varia, the Mist Arcobaleno. You will meet me at the gates of Namimori Middle School at eleven-thirty sharp in exactly seven days. Come prepared."

With that, he leaves, the men he had taken with him trailing after him and shooting her suspicious glances.

'Fools,' Mukuro sneers, 'so desperate for an illusionist that they would drag yet another civilian into the horrors of the underworld… Anyone other than you, Chrome, would drown within the sea of darkness that encompasses their hideous lifestyle.'

Chrome thinks that Mukuro is being strangely poetic today. Earlier, he had lamented, in a way not unlike Shakespeare, the horrors of Vendicare and the Vendice, his companions' personalities, and her own ideals. '_I'll be okay,_' she says to her savior, '_I've lived in darkness before._'

Mukuro goes quiet. Chrome never really talks about her previous life, and tries not to think about it while he's around, so it's understandable that Mukuro is slightly taken aback by the topic.

He doesn't talk to her again that day.

* * *

**Hello, I haven't posted in… a long time. Sorry, no excuses. I just didn't feel like writing anything.**

**Sorry for any inconsistencies or grammatical errors (not sticking with present tense, etc.). I'm tired and just plain lazy. If you find any, please point them out to me!**

**Chrome loves Mukuro as her savior, but it's not romantic. She also realizes that he is not a good person at all. She loved her cousin but loved Mukuro more.**

**I've had this one in the works since probably late November, early December, but I just came back to it today to finish it up and post it. I think I'm getting back into fanfiction and writing again, especially since I'm in quarantine. Online school is pretty easy, so I have more time to do things I actually enjoy.**

**I may continue this at another point in time because I didn't even introduce the main characters of the show, but idk. I think that next, I might do a Fruits Basket/KHR as requested by one of my lovely readers, unless you'd all prefer more Harry Potter, or something else? I know this fic is classified as HP/KHR, but that's because I originally intended for a lot of HP crossovers. Heh…**

**Also, I'm sorry if I don't get to all of your requests. All of your ideas are great, but some of them just don't work out for me when I'm trying to write them. The characters just don't want to work with me, or together. ;( I'm sorry!**

**What do you think?**

**Leave a review, please! Don't just spectate ;-; 3**

**PLEASE STAY HEALTHY MY DEAR READERS! I wish you all the best in this time of crisis! 3 Stay strong!**


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